Today at (where else?) Wal-Mart, Arden was mad because I wouldn't let her buy (1) Star Magazine (2) a Dr. Pepper (3) a bleach pen (seriously. Who stocks those shelves near the check-out? Do they hate all parents, or is it just me? Are they TRYING to set my kid up for failure? Could they not fill those shelves with broccoli or cantaloupe or toilet paper?). Not recognizing Arden's bad mood, the sweet checker made the mistake of telling Arden her dress was pretty. This innocuous comment set off a string of rude remarks from AK, most of which were (thankfully) unintelligible thanks to the combination of her southern accent and inability to pronounce the letter r. I think the checker got the general idea, though, what with all the forceful finger pointing and furrowed eye brows going on.
In the car, I asked Arden why she was so rude to the checker.
"Because she said my dress was pity. It's not pity. You're pity, Mommy."
Well. What are you supposed to say to that?
Apparently, not "It doesn't matter if you think I'm pretty (which, by the way, thanks) you're still going to Time Out as soon as we get home. And you can forget about that ice cream cone you wanted."
Because, if you say that, all of a sudden you're not so pretty anymore. At least according to your three year old.
1 comment:
once again, you make me laugh out loud. This is so funny...and so Arden Kate!
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